


Echoes in the Wisp

by 60sec400



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Brother-Sister Relationships, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Old Age, One-Shot, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix It, aka he's not all there, but like they don't actually fix anything, it's just the bit before they fix it, kind of an AU, no editing we die like clones, obi-wan is just more affected by the loss of the jedi than in canon, or really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:41:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24174538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/60sec400/pseuds/60sec400
Summary: Anakin and Ahsoka find themselves twenty years in the future. The Jedi are gone, the world is occupied by yet still an unknown something that clearly does not favor them. And, yet, the Force is telling them to go to Tatooine, back to that god-forsaken planet. So they go. It's there that they decide they cannot take this future.“Many memories here,” Obi-Wan says, looking sadly around the marketplace. His eyes land on her and then flicker away. He looks so weary. Weathered. It’s clear that he isn’t quite with them. Either lost in his own memories or lost having forgotten them.Aka. If Obi-Wan hadn't been able to weather the storm.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 30
Kudos: 361





	Echoes in the Wisp

**Author's Note:**

> Wowie okay. My first Star Wars fanfic. I have been riding this train for a WHILE and decided to write my own little one-shot. I love love love time travel fix it's. So, well, here's the time travel fix it before the fix it.

The how was still unclear to the both of them.

Well, the how _and_ the why.

The what, exactly, was perfectly clear to them.

Besides, Ahsoka thought, a chrono didn’t lie. It could be said, though, that a broken chrono was right once a day. This chrono, unfortunately, ticked steadily onward. Her Master leaned forward in the pilot seat, brow furrowed in concentration the way it had been ever since they woke up nearly 20 some years into the future.

Neither of them had assumed that had been the case, though, when they woke up being prodded by several old hermits with quarterstaffs somewhere in the Coruscant lower levels. An easy problem to deal with, but one they hadn’t been expecting given that, the last thing either of them remembered, they’d been on the Resolute heading _back_ to Coruscant. Then, they’d been on the lower levels fighting off all manner of ruffians who’d been going for, well, pretty much anything either of them had on them that was of value.

And then they’d made it to the surface. If the day hadn’t already been weird, it had gotten weird _then_.

“What’s our ETA?” she asked her Master, who still was facing pointedly out the cockpit.

The world around them both was silent, except for the roar of the stolen ship’s engine. It was a different silence. Not the physical kind, but the kind that persisted in the soul. The silence was suffering and stilting and still unbelievably _wrong._ Echoes of it pressed into her head; thousands of little candles, all blown softly away for the night.

In the 20 years they had been gone, the Jedi had been eradicated.

Ahsoka pushed back at the echoes, clearing them as best she could. She knew her Master would be feeling everything so much worse than she, if only because of how brightly he shined in the Force. How connected he was with it through no effort on his part always left her a bit humbled and, very quietly, in a bit of awe. That awe had died down the longer they fought together but Ahsoka hadn’t been able to rid herself of it altogether.

Being assigned to Anakin Skywalker had been a nerve-wracking experience. When she’d received the assignment, another Initiate in her Clan had grumbled that it meant she was, essentially, also getting paired up with Obi-Wan Kenobi. Why did _she_ get to have two masters? It hadn’t eased her nerves. But she’d slid in easily and quickly, through almost no effort. She was far closer to her Master than she would ever be to Obi-Wan; but that was to be expected, given that Jedi were not supposed to be close at all.

Attachments were forbidden.

And as much as Ahsoka wanted to be a good Jedi, she’d inevitably broken some rules. In her opinion, _that_ rule was the best one to break.

She reached for her Master, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Master? How are you doing?”

Ahsoka saw his blue eyes flicker toward her before he turned away. “Fine, Ahsoka. It’s just,” he ran a hand over his face, groan muffled, and slumped a little back in his seat. “I didn’t realize how… loud isn’t the right word. Just. How _present_ in the Force the Jedi were until…”

His voice faded off with a small shrug and he sat back up, focused again on piloting. She knew he needed, desperately, something to focus on. The silence must have been deafening to his ears. The only good thing was the clear way the Force had, for once, directed them to follow it.

_Tatooine._

The godforsaken planet that Anakin had sworn he would never step foot on again. And the Force was telling them to go. Pack up and get a move on, it said, you’ve got places to be.

“ETA?” she asked again, but the silence was deafening to her, too, and she couldn’t bear it anymore. It was times like this that Ahsoka was happy to admit she did in fact have two masters and would turn to Master Obi-Wan eager for either a distraction or advice. Or both, if he could help it.

“20 more klicks,” he said, voice strained. He paused, then, “I’m pushing this thing. The faster we’re on the planet means that whatever the Force wants us to do here can get done so we can get _off_ the planet.”

Ahsoka supposed his reasoning was sound. She wished she could come up with something funny to say, but the echoes pushed against her head, and the joke died in her throat. She supposed, to herself, leaning back in the co-pilot’s chair, that the voice of the Jedi and the Force had not been candles softly blown out for the night. Maybe now, some time after it had happened, because those echoes were oh so faint, it was only the wispy candle smoke that was left.

No, the Jedi had been blazing and roaring fires, each and every one of them. Stars in the universe, so hot and alive and connected to each other. And when they’d gone out, they had faded and left Ahsoka with her small wisp of candle smoke that she had tried to grasp the second she realized the light was gone. 

“I wonder why it wants us there,” she said aloud.

Her Master didn’t say anything, only a small grunt in reply, and pushed the ship faster.

She curled up in the seat co-pilot seat, pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around herself. 20 klicks went by faster than she could have anticipated and soon Tatooine was in front of them, yellow and brown like the first time she had seen it a few years ago.

Over twenty years ago, now. Some things never changed.

Breaking the atmosphere was always an unpleasant experience, and Ahsoka shut her eyes as the craft pushed through, Anakin probably pushing it more than it should.

She wished Master Obi-Wan was here, again, if only so he could calm them both down. Ahsoka had known, somewhere in the back of her head, that Anakin relied on his Master, on her, on others around him, to stave off his anger _if_ he was willing to let them. She hadn’t known and thought of the extent of it, not until now. Not when it was so drastically affecting the both of them.

They landed in the space port in Mos Espa and ended up stealing a land-speeder when the Force urged them both to head toward _Mos Eisley._

 _Home,_ it whispered in Ahsoka’s head. _Home awaits._ It was louder here and now than it had ever been for her before.

 _Good_ , she thought in the Forces general direction, _about time._

“What is it having us do?” she said to her Master, hoping that he’d do something.

He did. Thank the Force.

“I have no clue.” Not exactly a helpful answer, but, well, at least he’d spoken.

“Maybe it wants us to learn something?”

For the first time in almost days, Anakin glanced down at her with an almost twinkle in his eyes. “On Tatooine? There is nothing that I know of that can be offered from this heap of rock.”

She nodded slowly, “True. That’s true. But the Force wouldn’t send us here without reason.”

“We’re twenty years in the future, Snips, what the Force is intending is the least of my concern right now,” he said, and then threw the small pack of medical supplies on the land speeder. The twin suns of the planet beat down on them. The heat was dry, at least, and more bearable than any humid planet that Ahsoka had ever stepped on.

Binary suns existed all over the galaxy, many with planets. Many with multiple planets. It was just that most _decent_ planets she’d been to had all had one sun, thank you very much, and she was happy to never step on a twin sun planet ever again.

“That’s definitely not true,” she said with a frown, turning toward him, “We’re here now, aren’t we? The Force told us to come here, after bringing us here in this time in the first place, and if you didn’t have any concern for the Force, you and I both know we wouldn’t be _here_.”

He grunted, a small smile tugging at his lips, and he gave her a small conceding nod that acknowledged Ahsoka’s very valid and very real moment of being correct, in this instance. And then his shoulders sagged, and he stared wearily at the ground.

“If the Force wanted us to come to Tatooine, it could’ve just taken us there,” Anakin reasoned. “Not… fling us through space and time to get us here. I’m not _that_ stubborn.”

Ahsoka concedes that point; but regardless, they’re there now. And there really isn’t much they can do about it but follow what the Force is asking them to do.

They take the speeder and ride. Even the breeze doesn’t give them rest, the air hot and heavy as they fly over the land toward Mos Eisley. Ahsoka know that cool air wouldn’t come until the suns have gone down and then they would be forced to deal with rigid temperatures. Tatooine worked in extremes. Even the Force agreed.

They take a break to eat ration bars halfway there, both of them sitting in the shadow of the speeder and munching quietly.

“Master?” she asked, glancing up at him.

He grunts, then licks his lips, cracked from the heat already, and he nods, “What, Snips?”

“We can get back… right?”

His eyes scan the desert around them. The mirage of reflection plays off of both of them, shimmering in the distance. He looks weary, but she knows she does too. “I don’t know if that’s up to us,” he said honestly, “It’s not like we did anything to get here in the first place. We’ll just have to follow the Force.”

“It’s never been so… literal,” she said after a moment, thinking back to the quiet cadence-less voice in her head, in Anakin’s head, “I mean. I’ve been… guided to make decisions, yeah. That’s why we meditate. Why we follow it. But never so,” she paused to think, “Never so outright.”

He nods, “I know what you mean. I know I’m frustrated and, well, _annoyed._ But it feels good to… know, you know, that it’s there. And it does want us here. Why, I couldn’t tell you, but it does. And hearing it makes me feel like there has to be a reason.” He shifts a little into the sand and scowls at it before throwing up his hood.

“Did you ever ask it for… for proof?” she asked, voice small. Now wasn’t the best time for philosophy questions, Ahsoka knows that, but she’s curious.

Anakin blinks and looks down at her past his hood. “All the time,” he admits, and it sounds like he’s a little surprised, “Have you?”

Had she?

Before the War, Ahsoka would’ve wholeheartedly say no.

Now, well… she did wonder if she was doing the right thing all the time, if she was making the right choices. She wondered if she really was being guided by the Force, if she was saying to it to do a good thing so _she_ knew she was in the right. Funny feelings, she found out, in battle, could only go so far. 

“I suppose it’s a matter of free will,” she says slowly, “And… knowing that it’s there. And trusting it, regardless of where it _appears_ you will go.”

“Right,” Anakin says thoughtfully, “But you want to know if you’re doing the right thing, if it’s guiding you to do the right thing, and if it’s guiding you at all.”

She nodded.

Instead of comfort, or kind words, his head drops back against the speeder. “Me too,” he mutters.

They sit in silence for another ten minutes.

Then, quietly, they get back on the speeder and go.

Mos Eisley arrives slower than expected, once Ahsoka is left with her own thoughts. The conversations left her hanging. She wanted… more, more thoughts, more advice, more something. She decided that, once they had a moment, she would meditate. But she wanted to talk to Anakin again, or Master Obi-Wan, or even Master Plo.

But they were all dead here. Gone and buried. Candle smoke she was left grasping, trying to light something that had burned out long again.

She wretched her thoughts away from that direction, determined to not let herself get lost in them, determined to keep her mind clear so she could focus on why the Force would send them here.

The market was busy. The entrance to the raggedy old place was unguarded, unlike Mos Espa, which had held several men in perverted Clone Trooper uniforms, called Stormtroopers. They still didn’t quite have context for that. Ahsoka wasn’t sure she wanted any. Around them were all sorts of people and creatures, all moving about their daily lives, all ignoring the two clear off worlders.

The Force hummed in contentment around the two of them, meaning that they were close to whatever it wanted them to see.

Ahsoka’s eyes scan the crowd of beings around them, looking for something.

The Force snaps into place.

There’s an old man, greying and wrinkled and very, very old, standing in the front of a shop. He’s staring out over the crowd, but his eyes are unfocused. Ahsoka stops walking.

“Master,” she says, voice dry. She clears her throat and speaks clearer. “Master.”

Anakin stops and looks back at her, brow furrowed. He too had been searching. “What?”

She raises a shaky hand to point toward the man, who is still staring out at the crowd. Every few seconds his eyes flicker back around the crowd, back and forth. But he isn’t searching, not for anything. He’s observing, seeing, but not _searching._ His eyes slide right over them.

If Anakin’s brow could have dropped lower, it would, and a shadowed and cautious look crosses his face. “You think the Force wants to talk to him?”

The Force hums happily and they share a look at each other. It’s never been so _outright_.

They push through the crowd and at one point get yelled at by a snappy Bounty Hunter, but they reach the other side of the marketplace quickly. The Force is pushing them along.

The old man finally looks at them, up and down, and says, “What do you want?”

It’s Anakin who freezes first.

Ahsoka presses forward, opening her mouth to speak, when Anakin grabs her arm. She turns her head to give him a “what do you think you’re doing” face, her favorite one, but the absolute dread that’s fallen over him gives her pause.

She turns back to the man.

“If you want money,” he says, voice cracked and old, “I can’t help you.” His eyes flicker back through the crowd; he’s addled, she thinks. The Force wanted them to…

The accent. She knows that cadence of voice. She’d heard it not too long ago, telling her and Anakin they he’d see them on Coruscant, hopefully for some leave. She’d thought it dead, in this time, part of the wisp she’d never catch.

Her voice catches in her throat as she looks him over.

Obi-Wan is old. Old and weary and cracked, down to his bones. He’s thin and white and wispy haired, and his blue-grey eyes that had always been so unfailing were confused and… not quite there.

Anakin’s voice is choked. He’s still gripping Ahsoka like she’s a lifeline. It is for her, at least, and she doesn’t want him to let go.

“Do you know who we are?”

Obi-Wan lowers his head and looks them up and down. “Am I supposed to?” He pauses on Ahsoka. “Oh, I knew a Togruta once. You remind me of her.”

He seems less concerned with them after that, but he doesn’t move from the spot.

He doesn’t know them.

Is it old age?

It had only been twenty years; she knew Master Obi-Wan wasn’t that old, not really; he’d been young when he’d taken Anakin as a Padawan, only twenty-five. Had losing the whole Jedi Order aged him so greatly? Had losing them all cost him so much? Was being the last of them so painful?

She wasn’t sure she could do it. Not now. If anyone could’ve survived, it would be Master Obi-Wan. 

Within twenty years of their time, they would be lost. And Master Obi-Wan would be the only one left. The last of the Order. Of the Force. Of their Religion and their life.

Anakin’s voice dies in his throat as a younger man exists the shop. He’s skin is tan from the sun and his hair is an almost white blonde. He stops when he sees them and then hurries to stop in front of them and Obi-Wan. Protecting him. From them.

“Hey,” he says, his voice isn’t angry. It’s placating. “Can I help you? Was he bothering you? Ah gee, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Obi-Wan says, his voice still so familiar even when it’s so strange, so aged, “ _They_ were bothering _me._ ”

The boy, barely nineteen, gives them a once over before he glances back at Obi-Wan. “They didn’t have the part you needed in the shop. We’ll have to go somewhere else.”

Obi-Wan’s hand shakes as he lays it on the boy’s shoulder, giving it a soft double pat, before it falls slowly. The movement must ache him. “Oh, not a problem. I’ve the time. I do quite enjoy these outings. I’m trying to recall what part it even is.”

“The qulerian bolt.”

Obi-Wan blinks, as if that’s the first he’s heard of it. “Oh… oh yes. Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure.”

“I don’t know…,” he says, and then mutters something to himself under his breath.

The boy glances back at them and goes for Obi-Wan’s arm, giving it a small pat as he loops his arm through the crook in Obi-Wan’s elbow. “Let’s get you back to the Speeder before you wander off.”

“As if I would wander off!”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” the boy mutters under his breath.

“Wait,” Anakin says, desperate. “Wait, sorry. We weren’t,” his face scrunches up, “ _bothering_ him–.”

“I was bothered.”

“–we wanted to ask him about the Clone Wars,” Anakin finishes. “We were sent by… by a friend,” he says.

Both Obi-Wan and the boy stop, although Obi-Wan just looks so confused, it breaks Ahsoka’s heart, and he looks Anakin up and down again.

“Ah,” he says, “A memory.”

“Look,” the boy cuts in, “He’s–,” he lowers his voice, “He’s old and tired. I should get him back home. Just… leave us alone, please?”

“Many memories here,” Obi-Wan says, looking sadly around the marketplace. His eyes land on her and then flicker away. He looks so weary. Weathered. It’s clear that he isn’t quite with them. Either lost in his own memories or lost having forgotten them.

“See,” the boy says angrily under his breathe at them, “We’ll be going now.”

Ahsoka looks at her master’s master. Old and tired and greyed, eyes addled and memory failing. Memory failed. He looks so sad. But, at the very least, he is not lonely. The boy seems nice. He seems to care for Obi-Wan. He doesn’t trust them though, clearly. Why should he? Anakin and Ahsoka had either died or left Obi-Wan this way. It’s very well they had never met. 

They must be dead.

They’d never have left him. Not like this. Not to become… this.

“I’m… sorry,” Anakin says lamely as the boy shuffles Obi-Wan away from them. They disappear from view in less than a few moments.

Anakin and Ahsoka stand there, in the heat, surrounded by people and yet feeling no one but themselves.

“I–,” she starts, but she can’t finish. She can’t even muster tears. She isn’t sure what she should be feeling.

“This future,” Anakin says, voice low and angry, “This future can’t happen.” He turns back to face her. He looks so _angry_ , angry and lost.

“We don’t know how…” Ahsoka says, thinking about how anyone can be addled by old age no matter their circumstances.

But not like that. Not here. If it were to happen, Obi-Wan should be at the temple. With Ahsoka, with Anakin. Hell, with Rex and Cody. He should be with them. But… but they weren’t. They were all gone, all of them. They were dead. They’d been wiped out. Cleared away. The smoke was gone now, the wisp had faded. He should’ve been at the temple. But they were gone. Gone because the Jedi had been destroyed.

“We don’t know if this is because–.”

“Of course, it is, Ahsoka!” Anakin snaps, and then he runs a hand over his face, “You– you know Obi-Wan! It would take a _lot_ and this,” he gestures all around them, almost hitting a passerby, “This is a _lot_.”

“I know,” she stresses, putting all the pain of seeing someone so solid in his being like _that_ in her voice. “I know, Master. I–,” she breathes out, letting it go as best she can right now, “And if… if we change everything and he still,” she gestures vaguely, unable to voice it properly.

Anakin doesn’t falter; he’s like that, sometimes. “I won’t let it.”

“You can’t control that,” she says earnestly, “You and I both know that. So, Master, if. It. Happens? What then?” She hopes it never does. Not if they fix things. If even just one of them can stay with him.

He falters then, eyes dropping to the dusty ground. They haven’t attracted a crowd; people are steering clear of them. The suns have started going down, shadows beginning to stretch around them. Her Master looks so lost. He looks tired, too. He has been ever since they landed in this godforsaken time, with dead Jedi and the semblance of something very wrong with the universe in front of them.

Anakin steels himself, clenching his fists so tight she thinks he’ll break his metal arm. And then he lets them both go and breathes out long and heavy. His shoulders drop and he closes his eyes.

“Then I would… then he’d be with us,” he says slowly, “He’d be safe. With us.”

“Right,” she breathes. “Right.”

They stand quietly for a few moments.

“He cared for me and raised me,” Anakin says quietly, “He cared for me and if… if this is supposed to happen. I don’t think it is but if it is, supposed to, I mean, then I would.” He sighs. “I would return that. I’d take care of him.”

“I know you would, Master,” Ahsoka says.

He opens his arms. “Come here.”

She takes the hug without another word. She’s barely in his arms when she begins to cry. She cries very softly. They’re still in public. “I don’t want this future,” she whispers into her masters, her brothers, chest. “I don’t want it.”

Anakin looks around them. “I don’t either, Snips.”

The Force hums around them.

“I think we have a lot to learn, before we go back,” he mutters.

She steps away, wiping her eyes. “Do we… follow?”

Anakin looks to where the boy and Obi-Wan disappeared, eyes squinting as the suns light became gold around them. “I don’t think we have a choice.”

The Force hummed again, edging them along.

They both settle for a moment before they begin. And, Ahsoka thinks to herself, she might finally have grasped that wisp. Maybe not altogether. Maybe not all of it, but she grasped a little. And that was enough.

It would have to be.

_Fin._

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Thank's for the r&r and I hope you leave a comment to tell me what you think! Thanks!  
> Poor Obi-Wan.  
> Love that guy.


End file.
